As related by His Most Sublime and Eminent Radiance, Ailann Tiarnan, Archon of Skarsia
« That’s it, then. The last bit of hope gone. » I order another beer.
« That’s enough, » says a familiar voice. It’s Tara. I’m so drunk I didn’t even notice her enter. That’s how far I’ve fallen.
She pulls the glass from my hand. « We need you, » she says. « Get it together. »
« I’m sorry. I lost my strength. » I start to laugh, and I can’t stop, even though it isn’t funny, not in the least. « I couldn’t stop it. For all my power, he was dead in my arms before I could do a damn thing about it. »
« There’s something wrong about that, » says Tara. « Ellery put the body in cryo. »
« Did that work out for Uncle Walt? » I ask.
Tara slams the glass on the table. « Ailann, I mean that except for the fatal wound, the body is perfect. Humans don’t die instantaneously unless they’re blown to bits. There’s brain activity that lingers. You should’ve had time to fix him. You should’ve been able to bring him back. »
« Don’t you think I know that! » I can’t help myself, breaking into tears, pounding my fists on the metal table. I can’t handle this, just like I couldn’t handle the time I thought Tara was dead.
« That’s what I mean, » says Tara quietly. « It’s not right. It’s not a natural death. You might have given up hope, but I haven’t. I’m not going to lose him. »
There’s something in her voice that startles me. It’s not that she’s passionate about this, not at all. It’s the detachment, stating it as though it’s a fact. I’ve felt this sort of thing before, this cool, implacable certainty, felt it in I and I: n’aashet n’aaverti. Is it possible for a human?
But Tara is not an ordinary human anymore. That little girl we fell in love with was only a seedling. She’s the Matriarch of Skarsia, immortal, once dead and resurrected, the mate of the Living God. And she’s still a sapling who will someday grow into the glorious tree we call Tara’s Destiny.
« Don’t fuck with me, Ailann, » she says, and my heart leaps into my mouth. I’ve always known why I’ve loved her all these years, but now I know why Cillian loved her.
Loves her.
I get up from my seat and stumble behind her as she goes to meet the others.
When we arrive, it’s an emotional scene. Emanations are embracing Ross, Balin and the two Jacks like they feared they might never see them again.
It’s not unfounded.
I see Ellery. He’s hanging back with Aran. That’s probably for the best, seeing that I’ve screwed it up again.
Tara jumps up onto a picnic table. « We’ve had a setback, » she says. « This means that in order to retrieve Cillian, we’re going to need to recover control of the pleroma. We have to accelerate both processes of eliminating the invaders and completing the quest achievements. The first part will be simple: Marius has monitored the situation, and our enemies are coming to us. I believe that their objective is to attack the branches and render them incapable of resistance. It’s important that we use all of our advantages wisely – that is, the advantage of any special abilities we have, and also the advantage of concealing some of our number for the purpose of stealth engagements. Our next move will be to choose four of our number to work on easy achievements. Let’s hear some nominations. »
« Mickey, » says Valentin. « We need capable military commanders in contact with the others, in order to coordinate our attacks. »
« Lucius, » says Cüinn. « He’s the only one with a hope of fighting the SongLuminants on their own terms. »
« Aran, » says Mickey. « Because he’s an Archon, and we can use the big guns. »
« Jamey, » says Solomon. « He’s our closest connection to the trees. »
Tara begins to unpack some shopping bags. « Who wants the Vikings? » she asks.
Everyone takes a step backwards. No one wants to touch a book made of wood pulp paper. « Finally, Mickey steps forward. « I’ll do it, » he says. Maybe there’s some interesting battle techniques I can use. »
Tara holds up a ball of yarn. « Crochet? »
Jamey steps forward. Lucius and Aran look decidedly relieved.
« That leaves the artwork. Self-portrait or the pleroma? »
« As Archon, I think Aran’s more qualified to do the whole pleroma, » says Lucius. « And Ellery can help him. »
« I have no artistic skills whatsoever, » says Aran.
« Neither do I, » says Lucius.
« It just says to make a portrait, » says Tara. « Nowhere did it say anything about it being a good one. »
« But that’s a point, » says Solomon. « Some of the achievements require either winning medals or contests. Those will require skilled emanations. Maybe we should strategize and reserve, for example, Mickey for something like the jousting. »
« I disagree, » says Lorcan. « Look at what happened with those damn apples of immortality, when we thought we were so fucking smart. A lot of these achievements are probably tricks of some sort, and also, we’re still missing almost half of the final number of emanations. I think when the time comes, I and I will see that the right emanation is in the right place. Since it’s an emergency, we should go with employing the most sensible resources now. »
Jamey has been trying to get our attention for a while. Finally Tara notices, and bids him to talk. He signs to us: Lucius can only employ SongLuminant techniques when he’s emanated. As long as Manan is stuck outside, Lucius is wasted.
« All right, » says Tara. « Then what do you suggest? »
Lorcan. Because I’m the white knight, and he’s the black.
« That isn’t exactly logical, » says Solomon.
« What does logic have to do with it? » asks Hurley. « Navigating the dreaming trees requires arationality. »
« But fighting the telepaths will take good sense, » Mickey counters.
« Jamey is right, » says Ellery softly. « I don’t know that I can explain it. »
« I wish we had Ace to show us the best path, » says Tara. « What the fuck is taking him so long anyway? »
« Sometimes the fish just aren’t biting, » says Mickey.
« Ailann, what do you think? » asks Tara.
I don’t know. The world is still woozy. Her determination forced me to come here, but I still don’t have the will to force myself sober. Despite that, everyone is looking to me for an answer. They still trust me, after everything.
« I’d…I’d believe in Ellery, » I mutter.
« We’ll do Lorcan, not Lucius, » says Tara.
« Wait! » says Lorcan. « I actually have to paint a self-portrait? »
« That’s the idea, » she replies.
« But I can’t…I…I have no talent…»
« I reiterate: it doesn’t have to be a good one. »
« But I…but…»
The words die on his lips.
« What he’s trying to say, » says Driscoll, « as Tarlach would tell us were he here, is that Lorcan doesn’t want to do a self-portrait because Lorcan doesn’t want to look at himself. »
« Fuck you, » says Lorcan.
« Lorcan, suck it up, » says Mickey curtly. « It’s an easy assignment. »
The dispute is interrupted by the familiar sound of an announcement: “His Royal Lowness Callum O’Shea, Princely Submissive of Skarsia. 17th to emanate, 50 in the color scale, resonates to 229. 1.719 meters tall, cock size 15.871 cm when erect, apparent age 21. Lifestyle submissive. Totem is Commiphora myrrha, the gum myrrh, fixed star is Phact, the dove. Esoteric symbol is the Etruscan letter 
. Dessert is a Nau’gsh parfait of whipped cream topped by fruit and panna cotta. Function is facilitative insight, proto-conscious tendency is worship, designated Oblation. Blazon is ash gray, gouttée des larmes, on a hurt, a goutte de sang, proper.”
« That blazon plays fast and loose with the rules of tincture, » says Valentin.
« Stuff it. »
It takes us a moment to recognize the voice, so rarely heard and never so full of defiance. Standing in the doorway of the Light Fantastic Planet exhibit is Callum, covered in bruises and blood. This sight would not be unusual except that, for once, the blood was not his own.
« I killed the fucking rambats, » says Callum. « Now I’m going to avenge Cillian. »